Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 66259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Everything looks like a fairy tale. A dream come true. My dress is pure silk with a shorter lace train in an intricate Beauty and the Beast design on the back because Rob remembered how much I love books. He had the designer flown in from Paris to hand deliver the surprise.
My fairy tale, and the first expensive gift he ever gave me. Truly, he went all out, he always goes all out.
How did this happen, then?
More tears flow. My makeup is going to start streaking if I don’t do something, but all I can do is stare straight ahead and see flashes of my future.
Perfection.
With this man by my side.
This man who’s currently smiling at me like I’m the Belle to his Beast turned Prince.
Maybe I watched too much Disney growing up.
Because I fell.
I fell so hard.
It doesn’t matter that the sex is sometimes boring because he is always there for me, he listens to me, truly listens. He cares, and as pretentious as he can sometimes be, he always apologizes and asks for my take on things.
Everything he gave me, I took for face value—when I shouldn’t have.
Tale as old as time, am I right?
I can still see the text messages and the way my phone burned through my palm as I read through them, saw picture and video proof and just numbly got up and said I was calling it a night at my rehearsal dinner.
He’ll never know all the goodbyes I rehearsed in my head, nor will he ever understand how hard it’s going to be.
Stay or go.
My heart says stay.
My brain says run.
I wish I had Nikes on instead of shoes that cost more than my first car.
The music stops as my dad turns to me and smiles, his eyes crinkle, his teeth are straight and white, he literally cannot stop smiling at me as tears collect in his beard. I want to ask for help.
I feel so trapped I can’t breathe.
And then the clenched, “I’m so proud of you, baby.”
Another hot tear runs down my cheek and falls onto the gorgeous bouquet of white roses.
How perfectly pretty.
“Love you, Dad,” I whisper.
He frowns a bit, then forces his smile back and leans in, whispering, “Are you okay?”
My eyes search his. He’s aging. He needs this deal. Will they really withhold their support, drop him because of me? I have seconds, not minutes. I give a small nod, then wrap my arms around his older and frailer body. “You’re my hero.”
He doesn’t so much as hesitate before he whispers, “You’re mine.”
Strange, how people who truly love you and value you give you strength you never knew you were lacking until that moment in time.
“Who gives this woman?” the priest asks, clearing his throat. I look up. I know that voice; I’ve heard it say some very dirty things. It’s not the time to ask my dad why we hired my ex.
Adrian.
Who’s smirking down at me in a way that reminds me of more than his voice. I almost yell that God sees all, but I don’t. His eyes narrow in on me, then on the groom like he’s trying to make the calculations. Is she in love? Or did she just sell out?
Maybe, if I was being honest with myself, it was a little bit of both at the time. It was safe. It was exciting and new, and he was kind and I’d dated enough jerks to last a lifetime.
Poor Adrian has no idea the hell I’m about to unleash. I slowly shake my head at him and lower my chin. His eyes narrow even further as my dad’s boisterous voice fills the church. “Her mother and I do!”
I flinch.
Rob comes over and reaches for my hand, prying me away from my father. He even shakes my dad’s hand with both of his, as if to show that he’s this dominant thing when he’s literally afraid of taking me against a wall.
I’m suddenly even more angry.
I’d planned for this moment.
I crumple the paper in my left hand, and as we go through the ceremony and get ready to say our vows, Rob turns to me. “I think about you every day, Scar.” His crystal blue eyes tear up. “You’re my everything, you’re perfect, my best friend, everything I’ve looked for in a life partner. Remember the time we adopted that dog with the missing leg, and you said that sometimes you feel like something is missing in you? I think that something was me, I’m that something, we complete each other—”
The actual hell? Is he comparing me to Samson? My favorite and only dog that I will sic on him if he doesn’t stop moving his mouth. Oh God, does he have spinach in his teeth? Am I just imagining horrible things so I feel better?